Hummingbird
by Galeinthewillows
Summary: Dieppe, 1917: Brigadier General Fitzwilliam Darcy awakes bedridden in an army hospital after heavy shelling strikes while he is surveying troops at the front. As a high-ranking official he is given the best nurse on offer, Elizabeth Bennet, who holds him (and those like him) responsible for the misery she has to battle every day. Soon they begin drawing up their own battle lines.
1. Chapter 1

When Darcy regained consciousness all he could hear was a faint and gentle humming, although the tune was not one that he recognised. The voice sounded like it belonged to someone young and by the sweetness of its tone probably a female; it was a sound he had not heard in a very long time.

For the very shortest of seconds, he thought that maybe he hadn't survived the shell blast. The voice that filled his ears was nothing short of heavenly, particularly coming after the shrieking, ear-splitting racket of the shell and he thought briefly that maybe he had, against all odds, ended up there.

 _Heaven._

His thoughts were interrupted by a slightly aloof female voice that cut through his reverie like a hot knife through lard. Or perhaps a more appropriate metaphor was 'like jagged shrapnel through flesh'.

'Awake, are you?'

He opened his eyes and found himself in a small room. It was clean, bare and in a way heart crushingly homely. He supposed it was because there wasn't a layer of blood and dirt covering everything, as he had grown used to out here. In the corner stood a rather lovely young woman, probably in her early twenties, dark brown hair pushed back into a messy bun. Her eyes watched him with keen distrust, and this annoyed him more than it probably should have.

What didn't help his current aggressive mood was the painful aching sensation that ripped through his head, felt particularly acutely now that his eyes were open, and exposed to the bright sunlight streaming through the small window opposite where he lay. Yet, just as the pain in his head was beginning to subside somewhat, the pain in his shoulder and right leg amplified, reminding him that they too had been damaged in the blast.

'Who are you?'

She raised an eyebrow at his aggressive tone, and gestured down to the red cross stitched onto the front of her white apron.

'I thought that would have been rather obvious.'

He stared at her for a few seconds, not used to such insubordination, particularly from young nurses.

'Yes, despite your clear lack of bedside manner it was obvious that you are, in fact, a nurse. What I was inquiring about was my current whereabouts and your name, although the latter is less important at the present. Tell me where I am first.'

Darcy missed it, contemplating as he was her obvious lack of concern for his superior rank (and the courtesy it normally afforded him), but the side of her lips had twitched at his rather delightful accusations of her 'lack of bedside manner'. She smiled sweetly, although it didn't reach her eyes, and slowly folded up the clean bandage that she held in her hand with agonising precision, leaving him sitting in bed unable to do anything about it. He wasn't quite sure she knew just how angry it made him, although she couldn't be completely oblivious, her smile said as much. It made his blood boil, being so vulnerable.

She stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at him, in a way no woman had ever looked at him before. Indeed, he couldn't remember any human creature looking at him that way before. It was a look that he didn't quite understand because it wasn't exactly hatred, he knew what hatred looked like, but at that moment it was the closest emotion he could ascribe to it.

It was a sort of knowing look that he didn't understand or like, because he wasn't really sure what it was that she thought she knew about him.

It was all very… disorientating.

'You are currently in Dieppe, at the No. 5 British Red Cross A Section. You were brought here two days ago after a shell went off near your car and caused a rather nasty head injury, as well as more minor injuries to your shoulder, right leg and right arm. I have been assigned…'

She paused, eyes narrowing slightly, perhaps to highlight the fact that she really didn't want to be here looking after him.

'…to be your primary care giver throughout your stay with us, although I should mention that you will receive a visit from Dr Jones every day.'

Taking his silence for displeasure, she ventured on in elaborating the details of his situation.

'I understand that you must see a nurse, whose name is of such little consequence, a less than satisfactory replacement for a full-time doctor, but this is an army hospital and we need all the doctors we can on duty or recovering from said duty.'

'I never expected a full-time doctor, Mrs…?'

'Miss.'

His stoic face didn't change as he spoke his reply.

'You amaze me.'

She snorted in a rather unladylike manner as she turned back to the bandages lying on the table.

'Well I was twenty-one when this war started, there wasn't really much time for falling in love and settling down.'

'Many women are married before twenty-one, I don't think you can use that as an excuse for not being married.'

His remark caused her to looked up from the now neatly folded pile of bandages, a crease in her otherwise smooth brow.

'An excuse? I do not need an excuse for being unmarried by the age of twenty-one. I hadn't found anyone to love, and after 1914 all men worth giving my love to were neck deep in mud on the frontlines.'

The meaning of her words was not entirely lost on him, a man whose role out here was primarily administrative, and he silently watched her from his bed, suddenly conscious of the fact he was wearing nothing but pin-striped pyjamas in front of her. He also realised that his bandaged head must make him look completely ridiculous, and his left hand twitched. She paused and then looked up at him again.

'Actually, I don't mean all, there are some exceptions to that.'

'And what exceptions would these be?'

She paused for a few moments before answering.

'Those unwilling or unable to fight for medical reasons. Oh, and I suppose those who are needed at home to fulfil vitally important tasks.'

'Unwilling?'

She took out a needle and thread and began to badly darn a pair of grey socks.

'You know, conscientious objectors.'

'Conchies? You think those cowards are worth love of any sort. Whimpering at home while their fellow men fight for their country.'

'Whimpering at home?'

She looked at him with complete incredulity.

'I hope you don't find me impertinent but I have seen more conscientious objectors come through this hospital than I have men who wear stars on their uniform. They still end up out here, even if its carrying stretchers rather than fighting on the front. They still die for their country. How can you call someone brave enough to stand up and say they refuse to kill a coward?'

Her cheeks were slightly flushed, as they had somehow in their first proper meeting breached a topic that normally got her blood racing. She turned away from him in an attempt to rein in her emotions. She may be the best nurse in Dieppe, but that wouldn't help her if she punched an already badly-wounded Brigadier in the nose. She sighed in an attempt to level her breathing, and it was with a far softer voice that she finished her piece to him, trying to focus on darning the socks neatly.

'In all honesty, I'm not sure I was ever really sold on the idea of marriage in the first place, there is a lot I want to do and see first.'

He was quick in his reply.

'Marriage is one of the foundations of civilised society.'

'One could argue that it is the foundation of many a so called 'uncivilised' societies as well. We, that is to say the British, are by no means the only ones who indulge in the practice.'

He stared at her in badly hidden incredulity.

'How very modern of you. I suppose you are one of these man and marriage hating suffragettes that chain themselves to railings and jump in front of horses to get the vote. Which if you ask me is undeserved as a movement that is dominated by property damage and hunger strikes.'

She rolled his eyes as he said this. Had it been anyone other than this difficult nurse he would have said it was a trick of the light, but he was convinced that she had really just rolled her eyes at him.

 _Insufferable woman_.

'I hate neither men nor marriage.'

He raised an eyebrow in sanctimonious disbelief.

She looked up from her work and stared him dead in the eye.

'It's just I would have to be fiercely and inexorably in love with a man to marry him. I shall settle for nothing less, my mind is quite made up.'

He said nothing at that, merely continued to watch her. Seeing him suitably speechless she smiled dryly and turned back to the socks.

'But as I am far too sensible to fall fiercely and inexorably in love, I shall, as you say, have to content myself with property damage and hunger strikes.'

She looked over at the clock that stood against the table where she worked, pressed against the wall between him and the window.

'Dr Jones should be coming to give you a check-up in about 5 minutes.'

She stood and walked to the door, upon reaching for the handle she paused and swung quickly around to face him again.

'Elizabeth.'

He looked up at her.

'What?'

'That's my name. You asked earli…'

'Yes, but I couldn't possibly use your Christian name.'

'Well everybody else here calls me Elizabeth, and we will be forced to see rather a lot of each other in the coming weeks.'

He looked away from her to give his reply.

'I am not everybody else.'

She looked at him, eyes darkening slightly.

'No. I suppose you aren't.'

The cold that had seeped into her voice as she said that suddenly lightened, as did her eyes which seemed to twinkle, although there was no warmth in them. In fact, he would say they seemed rather to hold a fire in them, as opposed to a twinkle. However, he could only see them out of the corner of his eye.

'Very well then Brigadier General, you may have the very great pleasure of calling me Miss Bennet.'

Opening the door, she turned to face him again with a smirk on her face.

'Or you may simply call me…'

She stood up straight and snapped her fingers loudly, mock severity plastered onto her face.

'NURSE.'

Barked like a drill Sargent, she clicked her heels together before saluting the dumbstruck Darcy and marching out of the room.

 ** _Hope you enjoyed the first instalment of Hummingbird. I think I shall be updating once a week (it would be cruel to promise more than that as I'm not particularly organised), but I shall try to post Chapter two sooner. Please Follow, Comment and Review, it would mean a lot and constructive criticism is always very welcome._**


	2. Chapter 2

'I would like to talk to you about the nurse that has been assigned to me.'

Dr Jones looked up from his inspection of Darcy's leg, with an expectant grin.

'Yes, I thought you might. What is it you want to talk about precisely?'

Darcy wasn't one for holding back, and it was with gritted teeth that he unleashed his opinion of the nurse on the poor doctor.

'She is ill-mannered, improper and borders on the obscene.'

He made sure to pause in between every descriptor, just to push the point home. Dr Jones gave him a slightly nervous look before returning to his examination of the patient's body.

'She told me you had only been awake for ten minutes before she left to come remind me of our appointment.'

'Yes, that is true.'

The doctor sighed, shaking his head.

'I can assure you that she is the finest nurse I have here.'

Seeing Darcy was not convinced, he continued.

'We were instructed by the higher-ups to give you the finest care available when you were shipped in from the doctors in Arras, and I have already explained to you how close you came to meeting your maker. They did an good job, but once you arrived we had to completely redo most of the stitching in your head.'

He stood up, walking over to the desk to scribble down some notes.

'Yet I should confide in you the truth, my interest in your wellbeing is not entirely motivated by my very great fear of what General de Bourgh will do to me should it fail… I was friends with your father, a very great man, and we fought together in the Boer War. I simply couldn't live with myself if I let anything happen to his son while it was within my power to help.'

This admission made Darcy pause.

'Jones? Then surely you must be… Is your name by any chance Edward Vere Jones?'

When the doctor nodded, Darcy attempted to raise himself into a sitting position, only to be berated for moving while his many stitches were still so fresh.

'My father often spoke of you, and highly. I regret that I cannot properly greet you in this state.'

'Don't be ridiculous, naturally you wouldn't recognise me! We haven't met since you were a young boy, and I have been living in India for God knows how long.'

He gave out a long, drawn-out sigh.

'That was until I realised my services where needed here.'

As he said it, the doctor's eyes dulled somewhat, the full and terrible context of their meeting being remembered by both sides. It was then that Darcy thoughts suddenly turned to the original topic of Elizabeth Bennet, and he returned to it with a determined reluctance.

'I don't wish to trouble you, but I would like to return to the question of this nurse you have given me.'

Dr Jones nodded his head slowly.

'Yes, I thought you would not be so easily dissuaded. Elizabeth is highly opinionated and stands very firm in her views, a characteristic that often gets her into trouble. But you will not meet anyone as bright, witty or dare I say it charming within a hundred miles of this place. Her care for her charges is heartfelt and diligent – I really can't recommend anyone better for this job.'

Darcy couldn't help but snort at that.

'She seems opposed to so many things, I'm not exactly sure what my particular crime is. From what you said, while I am unconvinced by parts of it, it seems as though I am singled out for a particular reason rather than being part of a hated majority.'

The doctor looked up at Darcy.

'You must understand that Elizabeth has been out here from the start. She was already a trained nurse and among the first women sent out here. This is a big jump for anyone I'm sure you will agree, but perhaps more keenly felt by someone who had never before left the small town they had grown up in.'

He paused, but seeing that Darcy was about to open his mouth, quickly continued.

'It is also worth noting that she hasn't always been in large army hospitals such as this one. She was working on the front when the first as well as the last casualties of the Somme came in, although in her time she saw the products of many battles. It was only at the end of 1916 that she was moved to Dieppe, itself not much better, and this was where I had the very great privilege of meeting her.'

Jones laced his fingers in his lap as he looked at Darcy.

'Her experience of war has led, I regret to say, to a rather strong prejudice against anyone she sees as belonging to GHQ or the like.'

They sat silently for a bit, before Darcy decided to speak.

'While I understand there are certain hardships she has suffered and that she is one of your best nurses, well, as she can't seem to stand even being in the same room as me I think it would be better if you just found someone new. It isn't comfortable for either side.'

The doctor gave a short chuckle.

'I wouldn't worry too much, most of what she says to you is just to shock. It is a favourite past time of hers.'

Seeing Darcy still looked unconvinced he continued.

'In your case I really think she is the best shout. More than half the nurses here are too afraid to look after you, and the rest perhaps a little too keen to look after you. Young, attractive and aristocratic as you are, and in a weakened state, I fear for your safety more with them than out there. Their words of course. '

He nodded his head towards the window.

'Although there are a fair few hardened battle-axes amongst the nurses, I really must insist on keeping them to help me deal with the other men here. Elizabeth may bark at you, but she will take care of you, and undoubtedly do a marvellous job of it.'

While still unconvinced, Darcy nodded. His head was beginning to ache again, and his eyes grew heavy. Having been instructed by Jones to rest, he allowed himself to drift off into the blessed release of sleep.

 ** _I_ _hope you enjoyed the second instalment of Hummingbird. Please Review, Follow and Favourite – it really does mean a lot. Will most likely be updated by Friday._**


	3. Chapter 3

_Pain._

For most of the night it had consumed Darcy's thoughts, leaving him to twist and turn in his bed, unable to break free from its vice like grip. He struggled pitifully against it, pure exhaustion his only method of truly switching off and falling into unconsciousness.

'Sir?'

A voice said quietly above him.

'Mr Darcy?'

It was louder this time, and far less patient.

 _Oh God_.

It was the nurse.

His nurse.

 _Elizabeth Bennet_.

He didn't open his eyes, and pretended that he was still sleeping peacefully.

He wasn't sure exactly why he did this, because he certainly wasn't afraid of her. Simply not in any mood to be trifled with, and he had a horrid feeling she was going to trifle with him, brigadier general or not. Therefore, feigning sleep seemed (at least at the current moment) to be the most logical course of action.

'Mr Darcy?'

The voice now came from a mouth far too close to his, and it was the shock of feeling her warm breath on the side of his cheek which made his eyes open so sharply.

She was indeed very close to him, alarmingly so he thought, and looking at him with the same distrust she had shown at their first meeting. Yet, being this close gave him the opportunity to take in all the details of her face; from her dark eyes and chestnut hair to the slight smattering of freckles across her nose which suggested too much time spent in the sun.

He thought back to his conversation with Dr Jones last night.

 _What this woman must have seen_.

Elizabeth too was afforded a rather up-close-and-personal view of her patient, letting her eyes linger on his black curly hair, pale complexion and burning hazel eyes. He certainly hadn't spent much time in the sun, not that that surprised her much. Here at least he probably spent most of his time in a French Chateau. Yet, she had to admit that the nurses around the hospital were right: he was very handsome.

 _Pity he's such an intolerable prig_.

'I'm here to change your bandages and help you wash up.'

The lingering pain in his head, shoulder and leg dissipated almost at once, quickly replaced by complete and utter panic.

'What?'

He looked at her, open mouthed. She, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. Darcy took very little notice of this however, too preoccupied by the threatened 'wash up' she proposed.

'What on earth do you mean _you_ help me wash?'

'I mean I'm going to help you wash your body and change your bandages, it's sort of what we do in hospitals.'

As she reached for the top button of his pyjamas, his good arm flung itself over his chest – barring her way.

'I can do it myself.'

'No, you can't.'

'Yes, I can.'

They stared impassively at one another for a few seconds, each weighing up the other. Elizabeth broke the moment of silence by pushing his good arm of his chest and holding it down as she popped open the two top buttons of his shirt.

'This.'

She popped another button.

'Is.'

The thread of the fourth one actually came a bit loose from the force she exerted over it.

'My.'

The triangle of pale skin she was quickly freeing grew larger still.

'Job.'

The last two buttons fell to her machinations, and Darcy's chest was completely exposed.

'How…'

The surprise of her sudden attack was the only thing that had stopped Darcy from preventing her crusade against his shirt. He now lay there, in complete and utter shock, staring at her in disbelief.

'How dare you?'

It wasn't said with anger, just genuine confusion.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in reply to his question, and pushed a few rogue strands of hair that had come loose out of her eyes.

'Because it's my job and the doctors' orders. Now sit still, behave, and take your trousers off.'

Darcy just sat there, unable to find the words to express how he felt about her order. Starting to get more and more annoyed, Elizabeth glared at him.

'Look, it's not like it's nothing I haven't seen before. You need to wash, and your wounds need to be checked, cleaned and redressed. In your current state you can't do that by yourself. Not that you probably even know how to properly redress a wound. So…'

She put a great deal of emphasis on the 'so'.

'…I suggest you just let me get on with it. I have other things I could be doing.'

Darcy still hadn't quite processed this. A middle-class young lady, who came on the highest recommendation of Dr Jones, was trying to forcibly undress him. Yes, he knew she was a nurse and that this was her job. This certainly wasn't his first time in a hospital. But it had felt different the other times. Maybe because he had been younger? Or maybe because the nurses had been older?

Or maybe it was just Elizabeth Bennet, this strange woman who he didn't understand one bit, that made him so nervous.

'Honestly Sir, there is no need to be shy.'

That shook Darcy abruptly out of his thoughts.

 _Shy?_

 _SHY?_

How she had the audacity to call him shy was a mystery.

He was a grown man, and also a respected brigadier general. Yet here was an arduous young woman accusing him, _him_ , of being shy? This would not stand. No, this wouldn't stand at all.

With the most sardonic look he could muster he started at her, attempting to demonstrate to her how un-true and silly her accusation was. From the way her eyes narrowed slightly he felt it must have worked.

'Very well, get on with it.'

Gritting her teeth at what she saw as a disrespectful tone of reply, Elizabeth pulled back his sheets and surveyed her charge.

She then proceeded to pull the only chair in the room away from the desk and place it next to his bedside. She then took his good arm and motioned for him to sit up, which he duly did, and gently turned him so that his leg could be stretched out on the chair.

She then walked behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

She held them there for a bit, before slowly moving them forward so as to grip the lapel and gently peel back the shirt, revealing his wounded torso.

He heard the soft thump of his shirt hitting the sheet next to him.

They both held their breath (although neither knew the other suffered also) as Elizabeth began to slowly undo the bandages from around his shoulder.

She had done this a thousand times before, and yet suddenly felt an uncharacteristic twinge of nervousness. She supposed it was because he was a handsome man and that the intimacy of being alone in a room while performing this act, as opposed to a crowded hospital dormitory or battlefield, created an atmosphere that she was unfamiliar with.

It bothered her that she felt this way, and resolved to place his awkwardness as the root cause of the general awkwardness surrounding their current situation.

Darcy on the other hand, well, he could only focus on her cool fingertips as she washed his back and the area surrounding his wound, which she then dressed and rebandaged. The process was then repeated on his damaged arm.

His new-found policy of staring straight ahead at the wall and not moving a single muscle was tested as she moved from washing his arms to wiping down his broad chest.

His voice was slightly husky.

'I can do this part with my good arm.'

She nodded, looking slightly relieved he thought, and went over to the desk where she fiddled with the various ointments and bandages that lay on it.

Once he was done she walked back over, all signs of relief gone, and pointed at his pyjama bottoms.

'Right, these off now.'

'My leg feels fine, you don't have to.'

She looked at him with exasperation.

'Honestly, I have never met anyone as self-conscious as you, normally the men don't complain when I have to wipe them down.'

 _Although most of them are too badly hurt to complain_.

Darcy had, at this point, lost the ability to be surprise by her.

While there were obvious sexual connotations to what she said, her blunt manner of address made it come off as anything but. Indeed, there was actually a sort of quiet innocence in it. An innocence which, to his regret, he found quite enchanting.

'Fine, but I'm taking them off.'

Elizabeth smiled dryly.

'Oh excellent, this ought to be quick.'

It almost immediately became apparent that he should have just let her do the deed. His sorry attempts at taking off the pyjama bottoms hurt his pride far more than allowing her to take of his trousers would have done.

She, in an act of mercy that surprised both of them, took pity on him and moved over quickly to pull them clean off. Her hand had brushed his bad leg while doing it, but the pain that this inflicted was nothing compared to the pain to his ego as he tried to take his trousers off with one arm while sitting on a bed.

She hurriedly dressed the wounds on his leg, and gave both of them a quick rub with the wet cloth. Mercifully she looked away slightly as she pulled his bottoms back up, with only some minor wiggling on Darcy's part required to get them properly on.

'Now I have to do the head wound.'

She sat next to him on the bed, twisting herself so that she could have better access to the bandages that were wound in thin band around his head.

She slowly began to unwind them, and went through the motions she had for his shoulder, arm and leg.

She moved the cloth up to wipe his face, stopping suddenly.

He couldn't help but notice that her face was very close to his.

'You know something?'

He looked at her briefly before returning his gaze to the wall.

'What?'

She looked at him intensely, as if seeing him for the first time.

'You look a bit like Humpty Dumpty.'

His slowly, incredulously, turned his head until he was looking her directly in the eyes.

'What did you just say?'

It came out as barely more than a strangled hiss.

She tried very hard to keep a straight face, but the look of complete and utter incredulity on his no longer stoic face was almost too much.

'Humpty Dumpty, you know, he fell off a wall.'

'I know who Humpty Dumpty is!'

He was so enraged that the end of the bandage, which had not been fixed up yet, fell down in front of his face where it dangled helplessly.

This proved to be too much for Elizabeth who turned away and began to laugh, a proper side-splitting belly laugh that filled the small room. Hearing her laugh like this, the side of Darcy's lips couldn't help but twinge upwards, and soon he was laughing as well, albeit in a far more restrained way.

However, as soon as he did, Elizabeth stopped laughing abruptly and swung back to look at him. She raised her finger so that it was pointing directly into his face, her mouth slightly open.

'You! You laughed!'

He stopped as well and looked at her.

'Yes, is that really so surprising?'

He was surprised by it, although he wouldn't admit that to her. He couldn't really remember the last time he had genuinely laughed.

'Yes, it is – you see I didn't think you had a sense of humour.'

He raised his eyebrow at her as she finished fixing the bandage back in place.

'How on earth do you get away with it?'

'Away with what?'

He looked at her quizzically.

'With your total disregard and lack of respect for authority of any kind.'

It was her turn to look at him quizzically.

'I do respect authority, but only when I feel like that authority is one worth respecting.'

She shrugged.

'I respect Dr Jones tremendously, for instance.'

'But this means that you don't respect me.'

She said nothing, perhaps choosing her words – he didn't dare to hope he had finally left her speechless.

'May I ask why?'

He looked at her with curiosity, honestly interested in hearing her response.

Suddenly a knock came at the door, and a nurse walked in. Seeing Darcy still with his shirt off, the young girl blushed, and curtsied to him. She then turned to Elizabeth.

'I'm sorry to bother you, but Dr Jones needs to you to help in the surgery Elizabeth – a wave has come in from the frontline hospitals.'

Elizabeth stood up at once, and Darcy moved to put on his shirt, using his good arm to slip it over the bad one. It resulted in him being mostly covered, at least from the view of the nurse.

'I can take over if you want and finish tending to the brigadier general.'

Darcy raised up his hand to her.

'That won't be necessary.'

He turned towards Elizabeth, reverting to his coldest voice.

'I will wait for your answer when we next meet.'

She turned her head ever so slightly towards him before striding forward and out of the door, letting it slam behind her.

 _ **Sorry that this was posted in the early hours of Saturday (rather than Friday as promised)! Hope you have enjoyed this third instalment of Hummingbird. Today I leave the country for about a week but should be back next Sunday, however I will not be taking my laptop with me and will have little to no Wi-Fi. This unfortunately means that the story won't be updated for a full week, although I really hope this doesn't mean people will lose interest.**_ _ **Please Review, Follow and Favourite! Have a lovely week.**_


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